


Alive & Well

by andrasstaie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aftermath, Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Canon, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 03:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17800298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrasstaie/pseuds/andrasstaie
Summary: In all the chaos of the assault on Adamant, Nathra Lavellan loses track of Inquisitor Logan Trevelyan, unaware he's been trapped with their friends and companions in the raw Fade.I'm (still) terrible at titles and summaries, so basically it's post-Adamant fluff for Valentine's Day/OC Kiss Week 2019 for my good friendo, Butt, and our dorky babies <3





	Alive & Well

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nightchandac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightchandac/gifts).



The clash of steel slowly began to fade away into the night. The shrieks of demons had given way to cries of the dying. For Nathra, however, the difference was minimal. She flit from body to body on her way to the main courtyard of the fortress. She called aide to those she could, but the man she sought was nowhere to be seen.

As she drew upon the main courtyard, the fighting had completely subsided. There lingered an eerie hush over those in the vicinity. A rift hung open, a gaping maw. It’s glow bathing much of the area in a sickly green hue. Nathra couldn’t help but force away a dry heave. She’d not yet adjusted to the sight of the rifts, the thought of what lay beyond them. Nathra gripped her staff a bit tighter as she moved closer. Before she could get too close, however, an Inquisition soldier scrambled up behind her.

“Lady Lavellan!” Her ears twitched as the breathless soldier called out to her. She turned on her heel to face them. “Please, milady, we need your assistance.”

Nathra sucked in a breath, glancing over her shoulder. She scanned the nearby faces, none she recognized. A mingling of Inquisition troops and Grey Wardens. The Inquisitor and his group, however, were nowhere within sight. She bit her lip, uttering a prayer in her head for the Creators to protect them.

“What do you need?” she turned back to the soldier.

There was little she could do standing around in the courtyard, that much was clear. Helping others would be the best use of her time and skills. She continued to hold onto her staff as a lifeline as she followed the soldier. They explained the situation in a cascade of words. Some Nathra couldn’t even catch. Yet quietly she followed, jogging alongside her guide to match their hurried pace.

Time felt quicker once she settled in helping. While the demons were gone and it seemed the wardens felt no longer compelled to fight, the number of injured were staggering. To Nathra, at any rate. Even a night’s stroll back in Kirkwall when she was a child did not hold so many dead and dying. Her nose had gone blind to the stench of blood and death, but she could not fully acclimate to what she was seeing around her.

As soon as they arrived, she flitted about like a hummingbird. Expending what magic she could of her reserves to help to soldiers she was brought to. Some with more superficial wounds, broken bones, or dislocated limbs were helped to their feet and ushered away. The more devastating wounds were those she tended, but Nathra’s specialty had never been healing. All she knew was what little her mother, and later those of her clan passed on. Simple spells to begin the mending process, or fire spells that could cauterize a wound. But it was not much. Not nearly enough.

Exhaustion soon began to overtake her. She’d need rest, perhaps direct access to lyrium to be able to provide any more magical assistance. Her legs wobbled as she leaned heavily on her staff, waving away a soldier to go help another in more dire need. Nathra looked up toward the center of the fortress, eyes scanning for the tell-tale sign of the open rift at its heart. But she saw nothing. A surge of energy danced throughout her body as she forced her legs to carry her toward the courtyard.

When Nathra arrived, she could see wardens departing and Inquisition troops were beginning to move away. Her eyes darted about wildly until they landed on the Inquisitor. Her heart swelled, feeling as if it would burst out of her chest at any moment. He was back. Alive and  _ safe. _ She cried out in sheer joy, the sound vaguely resembling his name, lost in the midst of her squeal in relief and delight. Her staff clattered to the stone as she bolted the rest of the distance, right into his arms.

“Vhenan! You’re safe!”

Fortunately, her shriek had alerted him to her rapid approach. Logan braced himself as she all but barreled into his chest. He rocked back on one foot with a grunt to keep his balance, but smiled at her all the while. He moved to wrap her in a hug as her hands began to fly over him. She wanted to make sure he wasn’t injured, had to be  _ certain _ that he was all right.

Logan caught her wrists gently, a short ever so slight chuckle escaped his lips. “Nathra, I’m fine. I promise. But you… you’re shaking. What happened?” His smile faltered, concern heavy in his voice now.

She bobbed her head to assure him she was fine. “Just tired, I’ve been helping heal the soldiers.”

He released his hold on her wrists as she moved to cup his cheeks with both hands. Without another word, she pulled him into a searing - if not somewhat tired - kiss. He slid one hand behind her neck, the other wound around her back as he pulled her closer and returned the kiss. When they parted, their noses brushed together as she rested her forehead against his.

“Don’t ever do that again,“ she warned, with all the sternness she could muster. Which, frankly, wasn’t much.

“I’ll do my best, love,” he whispered. A smile lit up his whole face as he leaned into another gentle kiss.


End file.
